


Bound

by 1863



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: BDSM, Kinbaku, M/M, Rope Bondage, Violet Wand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 21:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12690222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1863/pseuds/1863
Summary: There's no shame in asking for what you need.





	Bound

Graham isn’t surprised when Richard turns up at his hotel room that night.

Richard had been on edge all day—all week, in fact. Had they still been in Wellington instead of on location, Graham was fairly certain that Richard would have come to him sooner than this. Back when they first got their schedules, maybe, or at least last night, just before they were due to shoot the barrel scenes at the Pelorus River.

But they’re not in Wellington now and they’re not in their own homes. Instead, they’re on location in Nelson along with everyone else, dozens of cast and crew all crammed into hotels with thin walls and carting luggage that can’t really be packed with much more than the essentials.

Still, Graham is nothing if not prepared. He couldn’t risk bringing anything too obvious in case his suitcases got lost or accidentally spilled open, but there’s a reason he and Richard work so well together. Graham had suspected that Richard might need him while they were on the road: physically demanding scenes, unfamiliar environments and unfamiliar beds. Richard came to him often enough even during regular filming, but the added stress of being on location would likely wear him down even further.

They hadn’t talked about it, about what they were going to do while they were away. By now their relationship is something of an open secret—they don’t advertise it but they don’t hide it, either, although the exact details of what goes on when they’re alone is something they’re both careful to keep private.

The night before they were due to leave, Graham had come home to find Richard waiting for him, already on his knees and stripped to the waist, restraints and a riding crop laid out in front of him. He hadn’t said a word, refused to even lift his head until Graham ordered him to, and even then he hadn’t been able to get the words out.

Richard rarely verbalised the things he wanted or needed. When Graham finally realised why it was like a punch to the gut, knocking all the breath out of him. It wasn’t that Richard was shy or embarrassed, exactly. It was because he trusted Graham to understand what he needed without being explicitly told.

All day today, Graham kept a close watch on him. He saw the carefully blank expression on Richard’s face as they got ready to float downriver in their barrels, took note of the stiffness of his shoulders and the way he never quite looked anyone in the eye during breaks. Graham kept his distance, as did everyone else—Richard barely said a word but the message was loud and clear: _stay away, don’t to talk to me, please leave me alone._

But here Richard stands now, just inside the door, face pale and eyes restless as he scrubs a hand over his beard and waits for Graham to stick the Do Not Disturb sign on the door and flip all the locks into place.

“Hey,” Graham says, watching him carefully. It’s the first thing he’s said to Richard all day.

There’s a long moment of silence, and then Richard takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Graham.”

His voice is deeper than usual and edged with something urgent and barely concealed. Graham is at his side in an instant.

“Richard,” he says, quiet but firm. “Look at me.”

Richard meets his eyes.

“I—will you—can we—” He stops and looks away again.

Graham watches him for a moment, considering his options, then lifts Richard’s head with gentle fingers under his jaw. He leans forward and kisses him, slow and careful and coaxing, no demand or domination at all. Richard’s lips part immediately, mouth opening and inviting, but Graham keeps the kiss soft, pressing a warm reassuring hand against the back of Richard’s neck and refusing to stop until he feels some of the tension start to dissipate under his palm. His other hand rests on Richard’s waist and Graham can feel a slight tremor running through his body as the kiss goes on, becoming more and more pronounced the longer Graham refuses to take what Richard is offering him.

Eventually, Richard pulls away.

“ _Graham_ ,” he says, voice almost cracking. His hands run up and down Graham’s arms, not settling in one place, and he licks his lips and seems so jittery that the look on his face borders on distress.

“I’m here,” Graham says immediately, but Richard doesn’t seem to hear him, just keeps sweeping his palms over Graham’s chest and stomach and shoulders as though he needs physical proof. “Richard,” Graham begins, a little more forcefully this time, but Richard cuts him off.

“Please,” he says suddenly. There’s a brief pause, and then the rest comes out in a rush. “Please, Graham, I need—god, please, tonight I really need—”

Graham circles one of Richard’s wrists with his fingers and squeezes tight. It’s not enough to hurt but it’s enough to ground him and he swiftly falls silent, staring at Graham’s hand.

“I know,” Graham murmurs, running his free hand over the back of Richard’s head before cupping his jaw. “I understand.”

Richard swallows and looks up. The expression in his eyes is so open, so nakedly vulnerable, that it leaves Graham a little breathless. He still has no idea why Richard trusts him this much, but he’s determined to make sure he deserves it.

“I couldn’t bring much,” he says. Richard starts to look away again but Graham stops him with nothing more than a sharpened voice. “You know I don’t actually need anything, don’t you?” He feels Richard’s pulse speed up, a rapid beat stuttering against the palm that’s still pressed tightly to Richard’s wrist. “Toys and equipment are just tools,” he adds, lowering his voice and stepping closer, crowding Richard against the wall. He licks a slow wet path up Richard’s neck.

“God,” Richard breathes, tilting his head back. Graham nibbles at an earlobe and whispers right into his ear.

“ _I’m_ what you submit to. _I’m_ what you need.” He tightens the grip around Richard’s wrist, this time aiming for pain. Richard eyelids flutter closed. “And I’m _right here_.”

Richard opens his eyes.

“I know,” he says, voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

“And I know you need a little more than my hands tonight.” He pauses, then adds, “I have rope. And some other small things.”

Relief floods Richard’s face and he sags against the wall a little. His gaze flickers up to the ceiling—another wordless request—but Graham shakes his head.

“I can’t suspend you here,” he says. It’s regrettable; suspension would have the kind of calming effect that Richard sorely needed right now, but here on location it just isn’t worth the risk. “But I can still give you what you need.”

He lets go of Richard’s wrist and steps back, waiting. For all the silent understanding between them, this is something Graham always insists on.

Richard nods, just a tiny movement of his head, but it’s the sign that Graham requires before he begins. He nods back, and Richard briefly closes his eyes in gratitude. Graham feels his chest tighten a little at the sight but pushes the feeling aside for now. Richard needs him to be focused.

“Go to the bedroom,” he says, in the very specific tone of voice he only ever uses when they’re alone. “Wait for me there.”

Richard’s response to the change in his voice is immediate. He lowers his head and his shoulders relax a little.

“Yes,” he replies softly, and makes his way to the bedroom.

Graham watches him disappear through the doorway and it’s only when he’s sure that Richard won’t see or hear him that he takes a deep, deep breath.

It’s going to be a long night and if he’s honest with himself, Richard isn’t the only one who needs what’s coming.

**

Richard is kneeling by the foot of the bed, head bowed, when Graham walks into the room.

He has to pause in the doorway for a moment, breath catching at the sight of him. Richard doesn’t look up as he approaches.

“You could have come to me sooner than this,” he says, cupping Richard’s jaw. Richard leans into the touch immediately. His eyes are closed.

“I know.”

“But?”

Richard opens his eyes. “I wanted to see how long I could wait.” He swallows. “I don’t want to be—” He stops suddenly, but Graham knows what he was going to say. The blush that spreads across Richard’s face isn’t embarrassment.

“There’s no shame in asking for what you need,” Graham says, and hears the catch in his own voice. “Richard—you can have this any time you need it. You can have this _all_ the time, if you want it.”

If you want _me_ , he doesn’t say. But Richard goes very, very still.

He stares, and Graham stares back, his hand still curved against Richard’s cheek. The moment stretches and Graham is dimly aware that this has become a turning point; that things will be different, somehow, from here on out. Eventually, Richard takes a breath and briefly closes his eyes. When he opens them again, they’re bright with something intense.

“There’s no shame in asking for what _you_ need,” Richard replies quietly, repeating Graham’s own words, and covers Graham’s hand with his own. He turns his head and kisses Graham’s palm, then lets go and bows his head again, hands clasped behind his back.

Ready, obedient, and waiting for an order.

Graham swallows.

“Stand up.”

He undresses Richard slowly, each movement careful and deliberate. First his shirt, undoing each button with sure fingers and pressing a kiss to each new patch of skin that’s laid bare. Richard shivers, but Graham can see his body already starting to relax.

Shoes and socks and jeans are next, Graham taking the time to run his hands over the long expanse of Richard’s thighs and calves before finally tugging off his underwear. With Richard naked now, Graham turns him around and presses up against his back, curling his hands around Richard’s waist.

“Come on,” he says softly, lips catching the shell of Richard’s ear, and walks the two of them to the ensuite.

“Bath?” he asks, rubbing his palm in slow, reassuring circles against Richard’s stomach. He feels the muscles under his hand tense. “Shower?”

There’s a tiny movement of Richard’s head. It could be a nod, or it could be a no.

Graham sharpens his voice. “You need to speak to me, Richard.”

“Shower, yes.” A pause. “I’m sorry.”

Graham drops a kiss onto his bare shoulder.

“You don’t have to be sorry. But I do want you to promise me something.”

Richard looks up and their eyes meet in the mirror above the sink.

“Promise me you’ll use your safeword earlier than you normally would.”

Richard frowns. “I can take—”

“I know you can take a lot,” Graham interrupts. “But I don’t want to push you too much. Not tonight. You need something else.”

Something passes over Richard’s face, a flicker of emotion that’s there and gone in the blink of an eye. He leans back against Graham’s chest and sighs.

“And you know what that is.”

It’s not a question, and his voice is very quiet.

Graham tightens his arms around Richard’s waist and presses a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Yes,” he says simply. “I do.”

Graham can be unrelenting—merciless, even. He’s pushed Richard hard in the past, sometimes far beyond what Richard thought himself capable of, and the rush of it—the sounds, the pain, all the physical sensations—were something they both got off on. But right now, Richard needed something a little different.

He lets go and gets undressed himself. Richard continues to watch him in the mirror and Graham gives him a small smile before leading him to the shower stall. He makes sure Richard is behind him when he turns the water on, so that the spray hits him first.

When the water is good and hot, Graham moves Richard into the stream and grabs the soap. He takes his time, lathering up sections of Richard’s body one by one and then rinsing them off, making sure he stays in as much contact with Richard’s skin as possible. Graham holds Richard close as he washes his back, Richard’s arms looped around Graham’s waist and forehead resting against his shoulder. Richard leans back against his chest when Graham runs the soap over his stomach, and closes his eyes as Graham crouches down to rinse the lather from his legs.

Graham keeps his movements methodical, aiming to relax Richard and nothing more, but it’s been a little while since they’ve been together and their need for what’s to come is more intense than Graham had realised. Just the sight of each other, hot water sluicing over so much bare skin, has both of them getting hard.

Richard ducks his head into the spray when Graham picks up the shampoo. His hair turns black under the steaming water, his skin flushed pink, and his eyes seem impossibly blue. He watches in silence as Graham starts to work the shampoo in, but his eyes flutter shut as Graham starts to massage his scalp, fingers moving in slow, firm circles. Graham keeps it up as he rinses Richard’s hair, letting his fingertips stray to the nape of his neck too and eliciting a small moan. Richard lowers his head and presses closer.

“Okay,” Graham says. He runs his hands down Richard’s slick back and gives his arse a light squeeze. “Okay.”

He turns the water off and wraps Richard in a towel before drying him off with the same slow, deliberate care that he’s used all night. The restlessness in Richard’s body is still there, but it’s started to be replaced with a different kind of tension—one that makes Richard lick his lips as he watches Graham toweling himself off, pupils dilating when Graham leans in for a kiss. Richard’s mouth opens immediately, a tiny, needy sound coming from the back of his throat.

“Go into the living room,” Graham instructs as he pulls back.

He gathers the rope and a pair of safety shears from his suitcase before following Richard outside.

Richard is on his knees by the couch, naked and perfectly still. Graham runs a hand over his shorn head before settling a palm against the back of his neck.

“Stand up.”

He rubs a coil of rope against the side of Richard’s face. It’s gone soft and pliable with repeated use, but the texture is still a little rough. Richard inhales sharply and Graham gets the reaction he’d been aiming for—just the smell of the rope, a distinctive, earthy sort of scent, starts to pull Richard under. His shoulders relax a little more and he glances up at Graham with a small smile on his face.

Graham smiles back and uncoils the rope.

“I’m going to bind you now,” he murmurs, voice quiet and firm.

“Yes,” Richard says, watching his hands. “Thank you,” he adds, and Graham can't stop himself from leaning down and pressing a kiss to centre of his chest.

“Any time.” He carefully slips a loop of rope over Richard’s bowed head. “Always.” Graham takes Richard’s hands in his and kisses his knuckles. “Hold these in place,” he adds, pressing Richard’s palms against the rope on his chest.

“Yes, sir.”

Graham pauses. Richard only ever uses titles when he’s desperate, or when he’s already deep in his headspace. Rope tends to sink him under fast and normally Graham would be happy about that—but this is too soon.

“Richard,” he says, sharply.

Richard looks up, blinking. Graham grabs the back of his head and pulls him into a hard, deep kiss, tongue pushing in, forceful and demanding and _claiming_. Richard goes slack for a moment before he starts to kiss back, urgent and needy, moaning into Graham’s mouth and trying to press closer. Graham allows it, lining up their bodies until their cocks slide against each other and Richard is clutching at Graham’s waist, their hips rocking, the contact so good that neither of them can stop. Graham pulls away only when the need to breathe becomes too great.

He grabs Richard’s wrist and squeezes hard.

“Not yet,” he orders, catching Richard’s eye. “You need to stay with me until I’m done. You need to tell me if the ropes feel too tight, if you start feel uncomfortable in any way—pins and needles, cold hands or feet. Richard,” he repeats, squeezing tighter. “Do you understand? Will you do this for me?”

Richard blinks slowly, still a little out of breath, and nods.

“Yes.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise,” he says without hesitation. “Graham, I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

Graham freezes. They both do.

Richard swallows, but says nothing else.

A moment later, Graham leans over and kisses the small scar on his forehead.

“I’m here,” he murmurs.

There’s more he could say, but now isn't the time. He places Richard’s hands against the rope again and ties the first knot, then another and another, moving down Richard’s torso as he goes, making sure the knots press against sensitive spots on Richard’s skin. He makes the last knot at Richard’s crotch, right above his cock, the rope just barely brushing it. Then he passes the rest of it between Richard’s legs, pulling it up between the cleft of his arse and against his back and threading it through the loop around his neck.

Graham starts to tie the harness proper, wrapping the rope around Richard’s chest and leaning into him as he reaches around to stretch the rope across his back. Graham binds him with care, movements slow and sure; his hands gentle, his touches light. Each knot is another wrap around Richard’s torso and Graham gently rocks him back and forth with each pass. It’s steady and rhythmic and Richard’s breathing starts to deepen even as his cock gets harder and his skin blushes a darker shade of pink—a flush of arousal now, not of shame.

Every time Graham threads the ends through another part of the harness, the rope rubs over itself and causes the whole thing to move with a subtle vibration. It pulls tiny gasps from Richard’s mouth, and his lips part as the harness steadily gets tighter and tighter. Graham checks that it’s never pulled too taut, making sure he can still get his fingers under the rope with ease as he continues to bind Richard’s upper body.

When he’s done, Graham pauses to admire the pattern of diamonds that crisscross Richard’s chest.

“Okay?” he asks softly, running a fingertip over a line of rope that traces the curve of a pectoral muscle. The combination of rough rope and smooth warm skin makes Graham’s cock twitch, and he rubs one of Richard’s nipples with the pad of his thumb.

“Yes,” Richard breathes, leaning into the touch.

Graham smiles.

“Good. Now turn around and get on your knees.”

Richard obeys without hesitation, turning to face the couch and kneeling at Graham’s feet.

Graham kneels beside him. “I’m going to blindfold you,” he adds. Richard doesn’t reply, eyelids falling shut as he waits for Graham to tie the plain black cloth over his eyes. “Just listen. And feel.”

Graham picks up a shorter length of rope. He takes Richard’s arms and gently pulls them back, bending them at the elbow and folding them against the middle of his back, forearms pressing together. Graham wraps the rope around Richard’s wrists and secures it with a double knot, then leans against Richard’s back as he passes the rope around his arms and chest, dropping small kisses against his shoulder as he goes.

Always careful, he constantly checks the tension and positioning of the rope, letting his touches linger as he feels Richard’s body become more and more pliant the more thoroughly he’s bound. Graham tugs the knots into place and Richard sways with the movement, eyes heavy lidded.

“Still with me?” Graham whispers into his ear.

“Always.”

They both know it’s another answer to more than one question but this time, there’s no awkwardness. They’re settling into headspaces where thoughts and feelings exist without the need for explanations and where trust in honesty is paramount—they both know that they’ll tell the truth if whatever is happening becomes too much to handle.

Graham ties off the first wrap and attaches another short length of rope, adding a second wrap around Richard’s upper arms and chest, a little lower than the first. When he’s done, he makes sure all the rope lies flat, pressing against Richard’s skin just tight enough to leave marks but loose enough that he can stay bound for as long as Graham wants him to be tied.

He pulls Richard against his chest and kisses his temple.

“Okay,” he says. “Up on the couch for me.”

Graham maneuvers Richard around so that he’s lying on his stomach, head hanging over the armrest. He pushes Richard’s legs up until his calves press against his thighs, and holds each leg in position with triple wraps of rope: first around the ankles, then spiraling up and around Richard’s long, long legs.

He rains kisses over Richard’s back, pressing his lips to any available patch of skin not wrapped with rope. Richard tries to push back against his mouth but as thoroughly bound as he is, he has no leverage whatsoever.

Graham stands and carefully slides a large cushion under Richard’s torso, so that the armrest doesn’t dig into his chest. He lifts Richard’s head with a finger under his chin and Richard licks his lips.

Graham stares at him for a moment. Blindfolded and bound, trust and willing submission rolling off him in waves, the dark gold of the rope a beautiful contrast to the pale flush of his skin. Wrapped up and positioned just so—just how Graham wants him. It makes Graham’s heart pound and his cock jump, and some feeling he doesn’t want to name yet surges in his chest with such force that it’s almost overwhelming.

He checks that Richard’s hands feet are still warm, then gives Richard another brief but hungry kiss.

Graham is rock hard, they both are, and ordinarily, this is the point where he’d start to fuck Richard into oblivion. But now, Graham picks up one of the few toys he’d brought him with instead.

It’s a butt plug, plain black and fairly innocent-looking, but big enough to keep Richard open and ready.

Graham slicks it up and slides one lubed finger into the cleft of Richard’s arse. Richard gasps in surprise but it swiftly turns into a moan as Graham pushes in. His hips move, trying to get more and trying to rub against the cushion underneath him at the same time. Graham grabs his hips with his free hand and digs his fingers in.

“Don’t move,” he orders. “Just feel.”

He works Richard open quickly and pushes the plug in before Richard is really ready. The sound he gets in return is equal parts pain and pleasure and Graham softens the harshness of the action by giving Richard’s a cock a slow, firm stroke.

“God,” Richard whispers, back sinking into a graceful curve as he pushes into Graham’s fist. He looks impossibly beautiful like this, arms and legs so artfully arranged, adorned with coils of rope that accentuate the long lines of his body.

Graham carefully pulls him up until Richard is sitting back on his haunches.

“I want you to stay here, like this, for a little while,” Graham says, keeping his voice quiet and calm despite his rapidly growing need to be inside Richard, to sink into the tight heat that had been around his fingers just moments ago. “But I’ll be right here. You’ll tell me immediately if you start to feel uncomfortable, all right? Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.”

Graham kisses him again, and though the temptation to keep going gets more and more intense the longer he licks into Richard’s willing mouth, he steps away and leaves Richard to sink deeper and deeper into his headspace. Because it’s this—the floating, centred calm, the knowledge that for now, at least, he has absolutely nothing to worry about because someone else will take care of everything for him— _this_ is what Richard needs tonight.

Graham had known it since he’d seen the restlessness in Thorin’s eyes by the river that morning. Richard hadn’t been able to bury it, not completely, and from the moment Graham got back to the hotel at the end of the day he’d been waiting for Richard’s knock at the door.

He goes back into the bedroom and grabs the only other small toys he’d dared to bring: a violet wand with a contact probe attached to the tip, and a Wartenberg pinwheel. Graham gets them ready on the coffee table while he eyes the clock. He’ll only give Richard ten minutes at the most; the leg ties in particular would need to be loosened before anything else happened tonight. He keeps a close watch on Richard too, making sure that his limbs haven’t gone too pale and that he hasn’t started shivering or exhibiting any other warning signs.

Richard’s head is bowed, the ends of the blindfold trailing down the back of his neck, and his lips are parted as he breathes in a deep, steady rhythm. His chest rises and falls against the confines of the rope that run across his torso, and his cock is still hard and heavy between his legs. The lines of rope frame his entire body in strategic patterns designed to give him the barest tease with every single breath he takes.

Graham rolls a condom on and strokes himself slowly as he watches Richard sink deeper and deeper. He keeps his touch light, so hard already that he knows he’s in danger of coming if he does anything more.

When it gets to the eight-minute mark, Graham checks on Richard’s limbs again. They’re still fine, but Richard’s breath hitches when he hears Graham come closer and whimpers a little when Graham gives his hands and feet a quick squeeze.

“Please,” Richard whispers, fingers scrabbling at his back, trying to prolong the contact with Graham’s hands.

Graham leans in and murmurs into his ear.

“Are you ready now?”

“Yes. Please, yes.”

Graham rubs a thumb over his cheekbone, just under the edge of the blindfold.

“What do you want?”

Richard licks his lips.

“Anything. Everything. You inside me.” He leans into Graham’s touch. “ _You_.”

Graham moves on instinct, crushing their mouths together in a rough kiss that borders on desperate, teeth colliding as Graham’s tongue sweeps in. Richard just takes it, hungry and needy, and when they finally break apart they’re both panting hard.

Graham maneuvers Richard to lie face-down on the couch again, then picks up the loose end of the contact probe. Richard moans as Graham slips the metal rod under the ropes that wrap around his back, knowing what’s about to happen. The muscles in his legs tense as he forces himself not the thrust into the cushion, remembering Graham’s earlier order.

“Good boy,” Graham says, kissing the nape of his neck, and Richard makes a small, pleased noise.

Graham quickly loosens the knots around Richard’s legs and gently pulls his calves down. His ankles are still tied to the tops of his thighs but there’s a lot more slack in the rope now, easing the pressure and giving him more room to move.

Then a distinct buzz fills the air as Graham turns the power on and the violet wand comes to life. He picks up the spike wheel, and presses it lightly against the back of one calf.

Richard’s sharp inhale turns into a moan when Graham slowly rolls the wheel over his leg, following the curve of muscle up to the back of his knee. The moan is deep, almost guttural, torn from his throat in shock. Richard is still blindfolded, and though he knew the violet wand would turn his body into an electrical conduit, he wouldn’t have had any idea that Graham was going to use the spike wheel on him too.

This is the first time Graham’s used the two toys in combination, and he knows that with the current set this high, Richard feels the roll of the pinwheel like a hot scalpel slicing him open.

Graham makes long, slow runs over Richard’s other calf and the backs of both thighs. Pale purple sparks burst over his skin as each spike makes contact with his electrified body, and Richard’s muscles tense up, panting into the armrest as he tries desperately to keep still.

“Okay?” Graham asks.

He lessens the strength of the current a little and uses the tip of the wheel’s handle to draw random patterns over the curves of Richard’s arse. The blunt end creates a sensation that isn’t anywhere near as painful, more of a tease than anything else. Graham just barely dips it into the cleft and Richard makes a strained, strangled sort of sound.

“ _Please_ ,” he gasps, begging.

Slowly, so slowly, Graham starts to drag the handle down, pressing in deeper as he goes.

“God, fuck, _Graham_ ,” Richard moans.

The handle meets the end of the plug and Graham circles the base before continuing to move it lower and lower. He stops when he gets to Richard’s perineum and turns the current up again.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Richard whispers brokenly, pushing back against the handle. Graham rubs it over the sensitive spot again and again, his own breathing turning harsh as he watches Richard straining against the ropes.

Graham flips the wheel around and turns the power up higher.

“Richard,” he says, voice rough and hard. “Do not move.”

Richard swallows audibly but manages a soft yes.

Graham wraps an arm around Richard’s chest and pulls him up until he’s leaning back against Graham’s chest, his head tilted back and resting on Graham’s shoulder. Then he runs the spikes all over Richard’s body, following the lines of rope like a roadmap, the violet sparks leaving trails of tiny red dots scattered across his skin: over his chest and nipples, his stomach and abdomen, sprinkled across his hips. Richard’s body trembles against his and Graham licks at the vulnerable line of his throat as the sounds Richard makes get more and more urgent.

Graham uses just the handle on Richard’s leaking cock, but keeps the current high.

“Jesus _christ_ ,” Richard chokes out, hips jerking up against his will. He still has the blindfold on but Graham knows his eyes are screwed shut. “Graham, Graham,” he pants, hips still moving helplessly as Graham keeps running the tip of the handle up and down the length of his cock.

“Richard,” Graham whispers into his ear, a warning in his voice. “If you come now, I won’t fuck you.”

Richard takes a deep, shuddering breath. And then he goes still.

Pride and gratitude and an intense flood of warmth bloom in Graham’s chest, and he kisses the side of Richard’s neck in acknowledgment of the effort it took to stop moving. Richard’s head tilts to the side, giving him better access, but the feeling of Richard pressed against him has Graham’s patience fraying at the edges. He quickly but carefully moves Richard back into position on the couch, forehead against the armrest, chest against the cushion, and pushes his legs apart.

“Yes, yes, please, thank you,” Richard mumbles. “Need this, need you…”

“Shhh,” Graham says reassuringly, rubbing his thigh. “I know. I’m here.” He pulls the plug out and swiftly slicks himself up. “Just feel, Richard. Just let go and feel.”

He pulls the contact probe away and sets it aside, turning the violet wand off too.

And then Graham pushes in, all the way, in a single slow thrust.

“ _Yes_ ,” Richard moans.

Graham closes his eyes. He can feel Richard shaking beneath him, already so close, and even though he was already stretched open and ready Richard is still so tight and hot around him, and it feels so perfect in so many ways that it takes Graham’s breath away.

He curls his hands around Richard’s hips and drapes himself over Richard’s back, and starts to move.

“ _Christ_ ,” Graham gasps. The ropes rub against his own skin as well as Richard’s, dragging over his chest and thighs and cock. The added texture is maddening and Graham thrusts again and again, holding Richard in place and fucking him hard and fast and rough.

Richard moans into the armrest, hips pushing frantically into the cushion beneath him.

“God, god, _god_ ,” he pants, over and over, voice low and edged with desperation.

Graham leans down and licks at the sweat on the nape of Richard’s neck.

“You can come,” he says against Richard’s skin. “You can come whenever you like.”

Richard clenches around him and Graham’s thrusts lose their rhythm as he groans, hips moving in short hard bursts. He presses his forehead against Richard’s shoulder, body tensing as the pleasure builds and builds.

“N-no,” Richard stammers.

“I’m giving you permission.”

He lifts Richard’s hips higher, changing the angle of his thrusts, and when Richard cries out and tightens hard around him, it feels like something inside Graham is cracking open.

“That’s,” Richard gasps, “that’s not what I meant. I want—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a wordless moan as Graham hits his prostate again.

“Tell me,” Graham demands, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in again.

“See,” Richard manages, panting hard. “See you. Want to see you. When I—”

He’s cut off when Graham thrusts in hard enough to move the couch.

“You want to see me when you come?”

Graham takes a deep breath and forces himself to slow down. Patches of the blindfold are damp with sweat and tears and for some reason the sight of it makes Graham groan. He licks over the shell of Richard’s ear. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Richard whispers, turning his head and trying to catch Graham’s lips. “ _Please_.”

Graham kisses Richard’s jaw and takes a moment to get himself under control before slowly pulling out. He laces their fingers together—Richard’s don’t feel cold yet but he asks anyway.

“How are your hands? Tell me the truth.”

Richard squeezes his fingers and swallows. “Fine. They’re fine, I swear it.”

Graham pulls him up, turning him around until they face one another. He reaches over and pulls the blindfold off and Richard blinks a few times, eyes refocusing. Graham catches his gaze.

“Do you want me to untie your arms?”

Richard licks his lips. “No.”

Graham nods, then settles himself more comfortably against the couch.

“Come here,” he says, holding out a hand.

He helps Richard maneuver into his lap, knees on either side of Graham’s thighs. With his ankles still bound and his arms still tied behind his back, Richard is off-balance and Graham has to brace his weight with a hand on his waist to keep him from toppling too far forward.

Graham uses his free hand to guide his cock into position and unexpectedly, Richard doesn’t wait for an order, just starts to sink down, eyelids fluttering as Graham fills him up again.

“ _God_ ,” Graham moans in surprise, head falling back against the wall. “ _Richard_.”

Richard watches him, eyes half-closed. There are bright spots of colour on his cheekbones and sweat trickling down his temples, and Graham can see the marks made by the spike wheel scattered all over his flushed skin. The look on his face is somehow intense and calm at the same time and Graham knows that inside, he’s flying.

They both are.

Graham pushes up into the sweet heat of Richard’s body, circling his waist with both hands, and together they move, every thrust met, every moan answered, every kiss returned.

They find the right angle and Richard throws his head back, jaw dropping, and the sight of him bound and panting and coming apart above him is the single most erotic thing Graham has ever seen. Their movements are languid, more sensuous than frantic now but the build is still swift and sharp, and it's not long before orgasm curls hot and tight in Graham’s belly and he suddenly goes still, hips bucking hard one last time, mouth open and eyes shut tight as he comes and comes and comes.

“Oh, Graham,” Richard gasps, staring at him. “ _Fuck_.”

Graham tightens the grip around his waist as Richard tenses above him. Richard leans down and Graham grants the wordless request, meeting his mouth and kissing him deep, swallowing his moans and tasting his tears, and a moment later Richard is coming too, cock untouched, whole body shaking as he spills out over Graham’s stomach, bliss on his face and Graham’s name on his lips.

**

Graham unties Richard with gentle hands, undoing the knots and unwrapping each length of rope with care. He takes the time to massage Richard’s arms and legs for a little while and Richard gives him a tired smile, knowing that he’s checking for accidental injuries as much as soothing any strained muscles.

“Drink this,” Graham says, giving him a bottle of water, and only when it’s empty does he finally lead Richard into the bedroom.

Graham settles him on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom to clean himself up. When he comes back, Richard has one arm held out, tracing the pale red rope marks that spiral around his bicep with the tip of a finger.

“They’ll fade by morning,” Graham says, climbing in next to him and pulling him close. He runs his own fingers over the diamond patterns imprinted into Richard’s chest.

“I wish they didn’t,” Richard admits. His eyes are very blue as he looks up at Graham, a small smile on his face.

It’s a fantasy of his, Graham knows, to be marked more permanently, even though they both know it can't happen—not while they’re still in the acting business, at any rate. But the implication of his words is clear: Richard doesn’t just want to be marked; Richard wants to be marked by _him_.

Graham pulls the covers over them both and fits himself around Richard’s body. It’s warm and comfortable and it all just feels so easy—so unexpectedly, shockingly easy. Richard is relaxed and sated in his arms, the night quiet and still around them and somehow, it really is the easiest thing in the world to reach up and press his palm against Richard’s chest and say out loud what’s he been thinking all along.

“Some things can last forever,” Graham whispers into the back of Richard’s neck. “Even if you can’t see them.”

It’s the pause of a single heartbeat, strong and solid against his palm, before Richard’s hand comes up and covers his own.

“I know,” Richard whispers back, not a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “I know.”


End file.
